


Strawberry Milkshake

by sv962



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Can be read as pre-slash, Gavin Reed Not Being an Asshole, Pre-Relationship, Slice of Life, Soft Upgraded Connor | RK900, just a regular day for the boys, or totally platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23405620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sv962/pseuds/sv962
Summary: RK900 discovers food and Gavin can't Read.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 7
Kudos: 113





	Strawberry Milkshake

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! This is the first time I'm posting something on this site! I've been writing about the boys for a while, I hope you'll enjoy the story!

That morning Nines’ presence was required for a special investigation.

Despite being Gavin’s partner for months, the department didn’t hesitate to occasionally demand his cooperation when the Detective wasn't around. On his behalf, Nines knew he should have told the detective he wasn’t working at the office that morning but a certain agent Chen told him the night before Gavin indulged into a barely legal alcohol consumption and got home totally wrecked, so he didn’t really want to bother him by texting or phoning him.

He just stuck to the old-school methods _–as Lieutenant Anderson would have said_.

He took a post-it from the first drawer of his desk and wrote a note to tell Gavin that he wouldn’t be back before the afternoon.

The letters were clear and clean, not even a smudge – _as if they had just come out of the printer_. There was a sort of perfection in his calligraphy that Nines wasn’t really sure of appreciating, an impeccable “ _Cyberlife Sans_ ”.

He attached the note with duct tape near the detective’s terminal and he adjusted the jacket on his shoulders, in an unnecessary gesture.

Although the idea of spending the morning away from Gavin troubled him and stirred a feeling akin to human frustration, he was also proud of being able to lend his skills to the team in order to help the investigation.

There was a hint of satisfaction in knowing that he could get where Connor failed, although his counterpart didn’t seem to mind. Actually, his predecessor was always too busy helping RK200 and his partner PL600 to get involved in demanding investigations.

Unlike Connor, few could have believed RK900 was a deviant.

He did what the department asked of him, was respectful of the partner he had been assigned to and had diligent conduct. He seldom talked, he never strived in order to integrate, he didn’t attempt to make pointless conversation during lunch breaks nor tried to bond with his colleagues.

Unlike his predecessor, he behaved as expected from an AX400 or AC700 months earlier: he stood in place, executed orders and acted as a good robot.

Gavin was the only one who had been able to detect his small deviant behaviors, which somehow made Nines feel... special.

When Fowler called Nines to warn him that the patrol car was about to leave, he left a bag with the detective’s lunch near his terminal, a sandwich that he took care of buying on his way to the bullpen that morning with a calorie intake proportional to the detective’s age and weight, with all the nutrients that Gavin was deficient because of his poorly balanced diet.

It was a gesture of concern that he had been doing for weeks without expecting anything in return except the certainty that he would put the partner in a good mood.

With that thought, he tried to smile to himself.

Of course he failed miserably – _Cyberlife didn’t really care about making him less intimidating._

He merely squeezed the high collar of his shirt before joining his colleagues.

***

Gavin woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

Actually, he didn’t even wake up in his bed.

The night before he came home drunk, after celebrating with Tina and her girlfriend their second anniversary. He didn’t really like Heater but he still made an effort. Tina was the only woman in the whole department he could trust with his own life and dignity, being the sole colleague that hadn’t already spat into his coffee as soon as he got up to get sugar or cream to lengthen it.

Despite being a _familiar setting_ , he still felt uncomfortable around Heater, so he started drinking halfway the party to relieve the uneasiness. From there, it had been an unstoppable escalation of beer and alcoholic cocktails.

By three in the morning, he must have had more alcohol in his blood than Anderson did in the old days.

He didn’t even remember how he got home, but he wanted to believe that at some point Tina had called a taxi for him or that the car had brought him there. How he had landed on the couch was even less important, but the scratches on the lock of the front door were probably the result of the numerous unsuccessful attempts to insert the key.

Everything around him was a mess.

When he opened his eyes, he was already one hour late for his shift, he stank of alcohol and sweat, his sweatshirt was smelly and there was puke on the doormat. He had a deafening headache and he wasn’t even sure that the ibuprofen in the bathroom medicine box wasn’t expired.

Sleeping with the neck crashed on the sofa also didn’t have the same effects once passed the twenties.

He slowly got up, one hand on his temple and the other that rummaged spasmodically in his pocket looking for his phone. Only then did he manage to stand up and it took him another half hour to sober enough to clean up the disaster in his living room and make himself decent for the job.

When Gavin got to the department it was already ten in the morning.

He barely managed to restrain himself from flipping the bird to Fowler as he heard his scolding for being late. God, he really had to behave if he still wanted to be promoted to Lieutenant in case Anderson had ever left for good.

Tina winked at him but Gavin didn’t really give her much thought.

He slouched to his desk and buried his head between the arms.

Only then he realized that something was definitely missing.

The desk in front of him was empty: no traces of Nines’ icy eyes, of his rigid posture, as if he had a stick up his ass – _admitted and granted that he had one_ , and his pristine chocolate hair. There was a strange feeling of unease in seeing, after a long time, the total nothingness in front of him.

As he saw a familiar figure approaching his desk, it didn’t take him a second to stop him roughly.

“Hey, Connor! Asshole!”, he snarled.

Connor looked at him curiously, but didn’t pay him too attention: “Good morning, Detective Reed”.

“Phck you,” grunted the detective, “Where’s your brother?”.

The android gave him a condescending smile.

“I don’t want to sound disrespectful or, _as you would address me_ , sassy,” Connor smirked, _actually smirked at him_ , “But I can’t help wondering how a skilled detective such as you could have overlooked the most obvious clue”.

“What-”

“Like that time you asked me what model was I despite it being written on my jacket, slapped in front of your very eyes,” Connor smiled naively, “I suggest you book an eye examination as soon as possible, detective _Read_ ”.

Gavin dismissed him by lifting his eloquent middle finger and muttered some insults against him, inviting him to bring his plastic ass where it was required, whether it was the Lieutenant’s thighs or the floor of a crime scene, and returned to work at his terminal, with a headache more pounding than before, the need for coffee that clashed with the nausea of the night before and his growing hunger.

He tried to focus in every possible way, but the more time went by, the more his mind was tormented by the unjustified absence of Nines.

With his leather jacket thrown over the table, he took his time to notice the presence of a well-closed paper bag, with a crumpled end and a smell that he could vaguely find inviting.

The bottom of the bag wasn’t oiled and the fact that the paper was slightly damp had to mean that the meal had been packed when it was still warm.

He smiled, hoping that no one would see that gesture of absolute affection for the vacant android.

“Phckin’ android...”, he softly whispered to himself.

Nines undoubtedly knew how to ease his worries.

He relaxed, taking the tablet and studying the details of the recent reports and, without paying attention to the desk, he threw himself back on the chair, resting his feet on the plastic surface of the desk.

Somehow he managed to work and conclude something, and after a while the headache and nausea disappeared, leaving room for his empty stomach and the spasmodic need for caffeine and nutrients before ending up asleep on the back of the chair.

When he looked at the time, it was almost two p.m. and he hadn’t even realized that he had worked during the whole lunch break.

Gavin put the tablet over a forgettable yellow post-it note, took the lunch bag with him and headed outside just to crash over the first bench he found.

Closing his eyes and resting his neck on the wooden bench, he could hear from afar the noises of the patrol cars returning.

***

RK900 sat crouched in the rear seats of the car – _being tall wasn’t always convenient_.

Agent M. Wilson and Agent Miller were both engaging in a colloquial exchange of their private lives.

In the end, the day wasn’t _that_ productive, but he couldn’t either deem it a failure: he had somehow managed to bond with the two humans, much more than he had until then by remaining in the office.

It all started when Nines bent over to analyze the blood at the crime scene, under the not-so-shocked scrutiny of detective Ben Collins, who had to be accustomed to certain procedures after working with Lieutenant Anderson and RK800.

However, the reactions of the two agents had surprised him.

“You can seriously analyze everything in real-time?!”, asked agent Miller with an astonished look on his face, “I can’t believe it! I thought only Connor could do that!”.

“Wait, you can do that with everything?”, insisted M. Wilson.

RK answered all their questions, limiting himself to technical and professional answers, explaining the procedure as if he was addressing his predecessor or his own creator: “I can analyze the composition of the samples that I collect through their ingestion. It takes little seconds to process their components. There’s a solution in my saliva that contains specific enzymes responsible for splitting the molecular structure of fluids and solids”.

He couldn’t initially understand why the two agents had looked at each other as if they had a sort of epiphany but Detective Collins seemed to catch up on them and begun to frown in a growing “No”.

For some reason, after three hours since their arrival at the crime scene, they ended up in a cafeteria, in front of them a pile of smoothies, french fries, fizzy drinks and dishes of all kinds.

And although his colleagues’ intentions weren’t initially clear to him, everything began to make sense when, in front of the amount of food, Chris invited Nines to point out, time after time, the calorie, fat and protein intake of each meal and drink on their table, while M. Wilson asked him if he could at least perceive the flavors of stuff or if he had a favorite taste among the many others experienced.

Despite his skills amazed his colleagues, less it did his spitting on the plate or in the napkin as he analyzed solid foods.

“65 dollars well spent”, concluded Detective Collins as he and the agents strived to eat everything it was served to them.

“RK”

Nines looked at Chris and slightly bowed his head, “Yes?”

“I saw you zoning out. You’re writing the report?”

“No, not yet. I was simply... going over the memories of this lunch. I’m trying to find a taste of my liking among all the flavors I picked”.

M. Wilson smiled in amusement: “After months of working with Reed, it must have been relaxing to take a break.”

RK frowned, but the limited expressiveness of his face couldn’t convey what he truly felt.

“It was... strange. Detective Reed and I have never been separated once since we got partnered last November, so it was a little unsettling to work without his voice and sarcastic comments. I dare say it was lonely”.

“Damn. What is he? Your background noise?”

“I guess?,” he said with a slight fluctuation of tone, a little more acute as if he was trying to emulate a smile, “But I appreciated the opportunity to bond with all of you. It made me happy, knowing that I was part of something like RK800–”, he stopped, correcting himself, “Like Connor is”.

For once, he didn’t stay on the sidelines.

For once, he had truly felt part of something: someone had talked and laughed with him about something. He had been the cause of someone else’s happiness besides Gavin.

“Don’t mention it”, M. Wilson laughed fondly, “You’re one of us. The whole department owes you for putting up with Gavin day by day”.

When they returned to the department, it was 14:12.

He clumsily got out of the car, making sure he didn’t hit his head against the roof, but while the agents entered the building, Nines rushed to Gavin, still slouched on the bench.

“Detective Reed!”, he shouted.

Gavin jumped on the seat and looked up from his sandwich. He could barely greet Nines when the android grabbed his shoulders and stared at him with his bluish irises.

“Detective!”

“W-What is it, Nines?!”

“I like...”, he hesitated, holding his breath despite not needing it, before looking at him with raised eyebrows, almost surprised, “I like strawberry flavored milkshake!”.

Gavin put down the sandwich, more than incredulous: “Forgive me, I think I’m having hearing problems. I could swear I just heard you claim that you like food”.

“I do. Today I tasted several foods. And even though I can’t digest them or need them in order to survive, I found some flavors unusually... pleasant. I found out that I like strawberry milkshakes!”, he exclaimed with the surprise of a child when he sees the rainbow for the first time, “But only with 15 grams of sugar, 50 ml of milk and 72% of strawberries “.

Noticing the detective’s silence, he urged him: “Detective, I want to try it again. I like something!”

Gavin grinned, a grimace that quickly became an amused laugh: “I mean, you took half a day just to go looking for a favorite food?”.

“I...”

“Hey, don’t worry. I can treat you to as many milkshakes my paycheck allows if you want them so badly”

The android’s face brightened with joy, communicating with the crease of his eyes what the mouth and cheekbones couldn’t express.

“I have to warn you though”, said Nines, “I will be able to keep the food in my body for a limited amount of time, then I will have to expel it. I can process small samples, but not almost a liter of drink”.

“So what?”, Gavin skeptically raised an eyebrow, “I hope you won’t throw up in the middle of the cafeteria. There’s the bathroom for that”.

Nines’ LED circled blue.

“In any case”, Gavin picked the sandwich and gave it another bite, “Thanks for, um, you know, the lunch. You could have warned me though”

“I left a note on your desk. It’s near your terminal. I put it there so you wouldn’t miss that”

“...Oh”, Gavin raised a hand to his forehead, “Maybe I was still hangover... “

“Although the idea of your arriving at work hangover is utmost indecent, I think I know a method for sobering you up in no time”

“Shoot”

“Banana Milkshake,” Nines quickly replied, “It supplements electrolytes and reduces blood pressure. Recommended for low-potassium levels”.

Gavin pouted: “Yeah, I don’t want to contradict you but there’s a ton of sugar in there. It doesn’t exactly fit in the balanced diet you want me to follow”.

“... Please”, murmured the android, “I just want a reason to go back to Greene’s Hamburgers and have my strawberry milkshake. Just cooperate for once”.

RK did not have the ability to emulate the puppy eyes of his predecessor, but his pout surely worked miracles on Detective Reed, because at the end of their shift, they were sitting next to each other, in front of one banana and one strawberry milkshake.

God, the things he did for that android.


End file.
